


We Rise and We Fall and We Break

by hellowkatey



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [27]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FebuWhump2021, Flashbacks, Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Force Ghost(s), Force Visions (Star Wars), Gen, Memories, Multi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi on Tatooine, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellowkatey/pseuds/hellowkatey
Summary: Obi-Wan is searching for meaning in the Force during his time on Tatooine and finds clarity from old faces.[Febuwhump day 28: "you have to let me go"]
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138259
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	We Rise and We Fall and We Break

**_And if there’s a reason I’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died, I’m willing to wait for it._ **

- _Wait For It_ by Lin Manuel Miranda

* * *

The winds of the sandstorm howl against the sturdy walls of Obi-Wan's dwelling on the hill. Like many other days when he is confined indoors due to the less than pleasant weather on Tatooine, he tries to use the time to meditate. Yoda's insistence that he can speak with his long-dead master still lingers on his mind, but he is yet to actually hear his placid, deep voice or see his dark eyes, always seeming to see things that no one else can.

Sometimes he thinks his exile is making him cynical. As much as he doesn’t want to doubt the old master, it's been years since the Empire rose, and he hasn't heard a thing from the ghost of the man Qui-Gon Jinn used to be.

But he sits down in the center of his tiny living room atop a cushion designated for such meditative activities. Obi-Wan closes his eyes and breathes deeply to slow the distraction of his pounding heart.

The Force isn't the same as it was before the Republic fell. Today it feels even worse, even more muted and distant and only barely in his grasp. Obi-Wan longs for the days when the Force felt like a constant companion-- a trusty light in the dark whenever he needed it. Now it is only a faint flame on the verge of burning out.

Though the Force is hesitant at first, it soon receives him, pulling him fully under into his meditative landscape. Sometimes he finds himself back at the Temple during a time when the halls were filled with Jedi and the galaxy was the embodiment of light. Other times he is nowhere particular, but a grassy field beside a placid lake where the sun is warm and the breeze is comfortable. A perfect place to find his calm and dig deep into weaving through the strands of life and power within the Force.

But today he finds himself in a place he doesn't often go. Streams of light shine through the ornate windows in the palace of Sundari, sending a rainbow of every color across the floors and wall. Obi-Wan kneels in the center, not anymore in his desert garb, but the snug fit of Mandalorian armor.

_Oh,_ he thinks, pushing up to his feet. He removes the helmet, taking in the unobstructed view of the empty throne room. _This is a vision, then._

Obi-Wan has always been prone to visions, but it has been many months since was last pulled into such a vivid scene. But he does know there is nothing much he can do, besides let it play out.

"Ben," a soft, sweet voice he has longed for many years whispers, and he turns to find Satine standing only meters away.

"Satine," he breathes, his voice equally as soft. And while he longs to run to her, take her in his arms, and hope that the Force grants him a moment of unadulterated peace, he hesitates. He is here for a reason, wearing the armor he was wearing when… Obi-Wan looks around for others that could be present, but they still remain alone. Satine repeats the nickname she gave him in their youth, making it sound like something more than what the locals of Tatooine whisper when he passes.

He figures their time is limited, so he goes to her, letting himself revel in the moment of getting to draw her into him and feel her warmth against his cheek. _If only this blasted suit of armor weren't in the way._

"Satine, I want to tell you--"

She presses her fingers to his lips, staring up at him with those light blue eyes that could send him to his knees in an instant. There are so many things he wants to tell her that he never got the chance to.

First of all being: _I love you._

The second, _I'm sorry._

But she doesn't give him the chance.

"You are holding back, my dear Obi-Wan."

"Holding back?" His eyebrows crease. "Holding back from what?"

"Holding back your emotions. Your grief. You must let it all go."

This is not what he wanted to talk about in his reunion with the woman he once loved. This is not the conversation he wished to have. But she is a figment of the Force, and he knows this. Deep down, he does. But oh, how he wishes things were different.

"I have given up… _everything_ ," he replies, surprised by the ache in his chest when he says that aloud. "Satine... what more do I have to lose?"

She pulls away from him, taking his hands in hers so they are an arms length away from one another. It reminds of him of when they would dance-- using it as a way to hold one another closely without the scrutiny of whoever may be watching.

"You have to let me go," she whispers, but he realizes it isn't really her speaking.

Or it is, but it's more than that.

Satine is not just Satine. She is Ahsoka, the padawan of his padawan he failed more than once, and she paid the price for it. She is Cody. Rex. Every clone that ever served under him, served for him, _died_ for him. He couldn't help them in the end. She's Padmé, one of the only senators he trusted wholeheartedly besides Bail Organa. She is also Bail Organa. She's the other council members who spent their final months as holograms and their final hours as far from their home as possible. She's every Jedi, every padawan and youngling and Force-sensitive throughout the galaxy. Every person who died for the Republic or because of the war.

She's Anakin. The man he used to be. His brother, padawan, and son.

Obi-Wan's throat feels as tight as his chest now, and his hands slip from hers. But it isn't really her anymore because though her face is there, her voice is the voice of millions that cry out because of his failures.

"You have to let us all go," she says.

"And why should I?"

"Your story is not over yet, my dear. Balance must be--"

"Balance," he chuckles. " _balance._ You tell me of balance but you forget that is a prophesy I have heard too many times. I was chosen to guide the Chosen One once before and look where that got us. Anakin…" he swallows hard. "Anakin turned to the dark side. Ahsoka is dead. You-- _you're dead._ "

"Are we ever truly dead, though, Obi-Wan? How am I here with you now then?" Satine reaches for his hand, but he knows he will receive no further comfort from the ghost of her touch.

"You are the Force, Satine."

"Aren't we all though? The Force is in all of us. Through life and through death alike."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Now you're sounding like--"

"Qui-Gon." they say in unison. And he looks up at her, her eyes twinkling at him in the way they do when she knows something he doesn't. "Is that what this is about?" he asks. "Is that why you've brought me here?"

"What is this place to you, Obi-Wan?" she asks, walking past him and toward the throne that she once sat upon.

"The place I held you as you died."

"Wrong." She turns, and as she does the landscape changes.

War. War wages on the other side of the wall that now has ceased to exist. Mandalorians on jetpacks soar across the sky, the reds and blues and greens of blaster shots illuminating the clouds of smoke that billow from where bombs were dropped in the streets.

It's been years since he last has seen war and yet, it feels like only yesterday he was running into another battle. His adrenaline spikes at the very sight.

"This is the place you made a choice."

He walks up next to her, and the moment returns to him. Waiting to make his escape from Mandalore, stricken with grief and shock at Satine's horrific death in his arms just a few hours earlier.

There have been a few moments where the anger and pain have bubbled in the pit of Obi-Wan's stomach and darkness lingered closer than it ever has. This moment… walking out of the palace after watching her murder at the hands of Maul was the moment he nearly gave in to the dark temptation. It was a repeat of Qui-Gon's death-- down to the saber through the stomach-- and yet again all he could do was watch hopelessly.

"But I didn't," he says to himself.

"You didn't."

"So that is why I'm here? To remember the worst moment of my life as though I don't see it in my dreams every night?"

"My darling," Satine's hand slips into his. "You are more important than you realize. The Force has dealt you a life of sadness, and still, you shine bright in the light."

"Yet it wasn't enough."

Satine turns to him, tugging his arm softly to turn him toward her. Her hand reaches up to cup his cheek, making him look at her. A strand of her blonde hair slips from its place, and he brushes it behind her ear. Some habits never die.

"The galaxy is not lost, Obi-Wan. I know you know this. You just need to let go. Let it all go, and trust in the Force."

"Satine…"

"Forgive yourself."

His voice is merely a whisper against the blaster fire. "I'm not sure I can do that."

She smiles at him, raising up on the tips of her toes and pressing her lips to his cheek. Softly. A touch as light as a hummingbird against the delicate petals of a flower, but it sends warmth through his body.

"The Obi-Wan I knew," she whispers. "would find a way."

He closes his eyes, letting her smooth voice fall over him like a warm blanket. Obi-Wan can feel her touch cease, her presence fade, and he knows well enough that when his eyes open he won't be on Sundari and she won't be in his arms anymore.

A terrible shame it will be, but feeling loss is like breathing to Obi-Wan now, and when he opens his eyes he feels neither the tug of grief or the emptiness of being alone.

He does, however, still stand in the palace of Sundari. It seems the Force isn't through with him quite yet.

"So what," he says into the empty room. The war is now gone, and night has fallen, and he is alone again. "Is this some sort of time out? Leaving me here until I fall to your whims?"

Nobody answers, because of course, nobody would. He is the only one here.

It's still a rather suggestive move by the Force. _You need to let me go. Let us go._

While usually, Obi-Wan _would_ bend to the whims of the Force without hesitation, what it is asking of him feels impossible. He doesn't feel he deserves the comfort of forgiveness.

It's an impossible task-- he cannot find the path to commune with Qui-Gon without letting go, but right now all he wants is the guidance of his master to help him figure out just _how_ to let go.

"You could grant me a mulligan?" he says to the void. "I just need… help on this one. I cannot keep doing this alone."

It's why Jedi train in pairs. Work together. There is strength in numbers, strength in teams. He and Anakin alone were a force to be reckoned with during the war, powerful on their own and unstoppable together.

He mourns having someone by his side. Having Anakin by his side. Maybe if he held him closer he wouldn't have strayed so far.

That's the root of it all, isn't it? Obi-Wan's one task, the one promise he made to Qui-Gon as he passed, was to train Anakin. Lead him to bring balance in the Force. And so all of this-- the war, the Empire, the Jedi crumbling-- is because he failed Anakin and failed Qui-Gon and subsequently failed the galaxy.

"How in blazes am I supposed to let this go?" his voice raises, cracking in its apex, and he paces.

_The Obi-Wan I knew would find a way._

_Well Satine, the Obi-Wan you knew was a very different man._

A younger man. More naïve and filled with hope that things will turn out okay. That man is gone, or at least, buried too deep to vocalize his opinion.

_Find a way,_ the Force whispers, and tears sprout in his eyes.

"Where do I even start, though?"

The energy of the Force swells, and Obi-Wan feels eyes on him. He turns, but where he expects to see someone standing, the air is empty. His eyes shift downward, and staring back at him is a young boy. Big blue eyes, wide and round. Filled with youthful innocence. Obi-Wan takes in the boy's spikey auburn hair. The faint freckles across his cheeks, and the robes that are a little too short at the ankles.

Obi-Wan Kenobi looks at himself. A younger version of himself. By the absence of the braid over his shoulder, himself at around the age of 12.

"Master," his youngling-self says, bowing with reverence. Obi-Wan stares back at him, dumbfounded. _The Force is really going for the heavy hitters today it seems._

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, master?"

"What… what am I-- what are you doing here?"

He looks at him with perfect serenity. "Master Yoda says I am too impulsive. My emotions are getting the best of me," he glances to the floor. "Master Jinn passed me over again."

Obi-Wan nearly chokes on his own tongue. He lets out a shaky breath and drops to one knee so he is eye level with… himself. It's a strange sensation, but he remembers this period of his life well. The uncertainty that he would one day become the knight he thought he was destined to be.

"I did not know this when I was your age, young one, but to be a Jedi is not to be unfeeling. It is merely that you can control your emotions, feel them, and then let them stay in the past that you have left behind."

Obi-Wan understands what this is. He sees the parallel, annoying as it is, and he can hear the Force warm around him as he says the words aloud. _I didn't realize the energy of the universe could have a sense of humor._

"And what of Master Jinn? Will I become a Jedi knight?"

Obi-Wan smiles softly. It's almost like his entire life flashes before him in an instant, from his first memories at the Temple to setting up his new home on Tatooine. All that has happened has lead to this moment. It has been for a reason, as hard to see as it may be.

What he does know is he does need the guidance of his master, and the only way to reach that point is to follow his own advice.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, you will grow up to be a great Jedi knight if you trust in the Force. And I have on good authority, that you will find your way."

He can feel the pressure releasing from his shoulders, the tension in his back easing. And as he stands and his youngling form dissolves in the landscape, Obi-Wan looks around at the stained transperisteel of the windows of the palace.

They are now more familiar. The silhouette of _The Negotiator_ flying through a star-lit sky. Cody holding out his lightsaber, that classic wry look on his face. Ahsoka's turned back walking down the steps of the Temple. A crowd of Togrutas. Satine reaching out for him, her face pale and a deep stain on her stomach. Mustafar. The Lars homestead. Himself as Rako Hardeen, fighting against Anakin. Adi Gallia lying atop her funeral pyre. Qui-Gon's wide eyes with a lightsaber through his abdomen.

He walks through the throne room, seeing these scenes and feeling the range of intense emotions as though they are happening to him all over again. But as he passes, he offers them back to the Force, apologizing to those and _hearing_ them granting their forgiveness. To hear their voices… to see their faces, even in such an abstract form is enough to send tears tumbling down his cheeks. As Obi-Wan reaches the last window, he looks at the face of Qui-Gon Jinn as he stands with his hands on the shoulders of a little blonde boy. Nine-year-old Anakin with his bright blue eyes and wild spirit stares back at Obi-Wan.

"I am so sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "I will make things right."

And from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, he feels the embrace of the Force, and a warm, familiar voice ring out--both a shout and a whisper and the friendly tone of a friend.

"My padawan… you have already begun to do so."

**Author's Note:**

> And we have reached the end of the Febuwhump Challenge! Thank you for reading, and a special thank you to those who I see dropping comments and tumblr reblogs/likes on basically every post. It made this so much fun to do, and I got to interact with so many incredible writers and their fics through this! 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments and the love, and I suppose I'll get back to my other WIPs now lol.


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